


they were built on ancient legends

by jessmy, localsharkbait (ninash)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alive Hale Family, Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Derek is bad with words, F/M, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Post-Nogitsune, Protective Derek, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Short & Sweet, Sleepwalking, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles cooks a lot, Stiles makes a wish, Temporary Character Death, eventually, forest spirit, ish, laura sees everything, stilinski charm, talia hales doesn't trust stiles at first, winning the pack over, you can pry these italics from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:40:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessmy/pseuds/jessmy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninash/pseuds/localsharkbait
Summary: Stiles makes a wish to bring the Hales back to life. Everyone is happy they’re back, but no one knows it was because of Stiles, and he’s fine leaving things that way. The Hales are hesitant to trust this human (not) boy. But in the end, nobody can resist the Stilinski charm.





	1. meet me in the woods(where i call home)

Stiles thinks back on what has become of his life the past two years. From werewolves being real to hunters and even evil fox spirits. He never thought he would actually get anything out of it. So when a forest spirit calls him to the middle of the preserve and offers him a wish, he hesitates. 

“As a reward, I’m offering you a single wish. As well as the clause that you can not wish for more wishes.” The spirit smiled down at him. The spirit was tall and floated about a foot off the ground. Their skin was a light coffee color, with long straight hair that reached their waist. There were flowers braided into their hair. While the spirit looked very feminine, the gown they wore revealed a flat chest, flawless skin lacking any blemish, and not a single freckle. The gown itself was the color of rich leaves and had many layers to the skirt. The top consisted of thick straps that cut down into a v in both the front and back, the v dropping down to just a ways above the belly button. Their eyes were a bright amber color, almost glowing in the twilight. Stiles honestly could say he would believe it if this was Mother Nature. 

The spirit called itself the guardian of the forest, and when Stiles asked how old they were their response was ‘as old as this forest’. Stiles suspected this forest had been around for a very, very, long time. 

“What is the reward for?” Stiles’ ever curious side showing through.

“You defeated the Nogitsune, an evil spirit that has brought harm to my old friend. For that, a reward is in order.” The spirit flutters their fingers out wide and gestured around. Stiles could guess they were referring to the Nemeton.

When they had offered him a wish, he did indeed hesitate, but then a heavy creased image of the Hale family flashed in his mind. A picture he had seen framed in Derek’s loft; probably one of, if not the only, picture left of his family. 

“Can I have some time to think it over?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“You have until tomorrow night, then my offer expires.” They said with a flourish of limbs before fading from his sight. 

Twenty-four hours to decide on a one time wish. He could do this. 

Turns out it wasn't that hard to make a decision. Stiles thought of the pros and cons of other wishes. Wishing Scott never got bitten, wishing werewolves didn't exist, wishing his mom back to life, even different variations of the wishes. Wishing his mom never got sick, wishing she had beat the dementia. There's a notebook slid under his bed, filled with lists and diagrams with different wishes to make. In the end, he came back to the Hale Family. Beacon Hills was their territory, and if they came back then Stiles and their ragtag team of renegades wouldn't have to deal with half of the shit they deal with. But then it was between wishing the Hale fire never happened, wishing Kate argent was never born, wishing Derek never met her, or simply wishing them back to life. The last decision won out in the end. If the fire never happened then Peter never would have gone crazy and bit Scott, but Scott being a werewolf was for the better. To be honest, Stiles also didn't want to forget that he knew about the supernatural, maybe he didn’t want to remember all of it, but he didn't want to forget. Simply wishing them back to life seemed to be to best wish with the least amount of cons, and the least amount of ‘what ifs’ that could go wrong. 

So that's how he found himself back in the preserve the next night, wandering around waiting for the self-proclaimed forest spirit. He didn't have to wait very long.

“Stiles Stilinski. Have you made your decision?” The spirit looked just as they had last night, if not even more ethereal looking. 

“I have.” He nodded his head and looked up at them.

“And?” The spirit raised a brow and gestured for him to speak.

“I wish all members of the Hale family who died in the fire and in the result of the fire, back to life.” He figured he needed to word it just right so that it would include Laura.

The spirit paused and was silent for a moment. Stiles wondered if his wish surprised them. 

“Are you sure? This is a one time offer. You could wish for anything.” The spirit drew their arm out to the side and spread their fingers out wide. Stiles offered a small smile. 

“I’m sure. I want all the Hale members back from the dead.” Stiles heaved his shoulders up and then dropped them. An image of his mom smiling flashed in his mind. He frowned and shook his head. No, this was the right thing to do. Derek deserved this; Beacon Hills needed this. 

The spirit held their arms out wide, and with a flick of their wrist, a warm gust of wind blew through the preserve.

“It is done.” The spirit tilted their head at Stiles.

“Seriously? That's it? No incantation in latin, no blood sacrifice?” Stiles flailed his arms and looked around himself. The spirit smirked at him, and he passed out. The spirit waved their arm over his body, poofing him back to his room.

“You have so much to learn young spark, so much.” They smiled as they slowly faded back into the preserve.

-

When Stiles woke up the next day he thought he dreamt up the whole thing. Unlocking his phone shows he definitely did not; he has over a hundred texts. All from different members of the pack. Mostly from Scott. Stiles smiles to himself as he reads through all the texts. Everyone is freaking out. Erica tells him Derek woke up in the middle of the night and ran to the old Hale house, where he found his entire family back from the dead. And the house isn’t a charred shell anymore, but fully intact. Says he could feel them and he has no idea what is going on. Cora is on a flight home. Peter pulled a complete 180 and is like an entirely different person. Apparently, he has two kids and a wife, who, Isaac tells him, are stunning. According to Boyd, Talia Hale really isn’t as scary as they thought she’d be. Erica tells him Derek looks just like his dad, and Cora and Laura look like Talia. Scott tells him Derek has two other siblings, older and twins, and that the Hales seemed to have aged forward to match the year they’re in now. Finally, a single text from Lydia, telling him to get his ass to the Hale house. 

He showers because he has patches of dirt clinging to his skin. Proof he was in the preserve last night. 

When he pulls up in front of the house, his mouth drops open in shock. Erica was right, it’s like the fire had never happened. When Stiles gets out of his jeep, he can actually hear everyone talking inside. He doesn’t even bother with knocking, just walks right into the house. Mostly everyone is in the living room to his left. It’s a step-down, and more like a large common room. There's a large sectional couch on the right side, and then a loveseat and a recliner on the left. There’s a large bay window between the couch and recliner, and a slew of cushions on the bowed window. Stiles thinks it’s probably a good nap spot. Derek is sitting between his mother, Talia, and his father, Kevin. Both have their arms wrapped around their son. Laura is pressed into her mother's other side. Who he assumes to be the twins are sitting on Kevin's other side. Two women, a man, and a young boy are sitting on the loveseat; all sitting so that they are touching. The boy is sleeping across their laps. Peter is sitting on the floor, with a woman and two young children all pressed in tight together. Peter has his arms wrapped around the woman, the two kids have their arms wrapped around their parents. 

Which-

“Stiles?” The woman Peter is hugging-his wife-looks at him with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. Stiles head jerks back a little, his brows pinched together. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He asks, flicking his hand. She leans forward like she’s going to get up, but her son holds onto her tighter and makes a noise in the back of his throat.

She shakes her head with a small smile. 

The rest of his pack is spread out in the living room. Lydia is sitting in the recliner with Jackson perched on the arm of the chair. Scott standing next to the other arm. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac are sitting on the floor with their backs braced against the sectional. Malia is sitting on the bay with a look of concentration on her face. Liam and Kira are sitting next to Malia on the ledge.

There’s a pang in Stiles' chest. _Allison should be here_. 

If everyone wasn’t already looking at him, they are now; the smell of sadness and an unbelievable amount of guilt surrounded the human like a brick wall. But, he pushes it down with a slight shake of his head. Scott still can’t really look at him so he goes and sits next to Malia. Her look of concentration breaks and she looks up at him with a neutral look. She scoots over to make room for him. When he sits, she leans into him and runs her hand across the back of his shoulders before relaxing, staying pressed into his side. It’s her way of trying to comfort him. He knows that even though they broke up, it’s in her nature to comfort a pack member. Stiles doesn’t mind.

Stiles looks over at Derek, who is staring back at him with red-rimmed eyes. It strikes a cord in the teen's chest. He looks down at his hands; he did a good thing. 

He finds out that the rest of the town just believe that the Hales were away in New York after the fire that almost killed the majority of them. Only those supernaturally inclined know the truth- and Stiles. No one thinks to question how he still knows the truth of what really happened. None of the Hales know how they came back, and they don’t seem all too keen on questioning it either. A weight falls from Stiles' shoulders when he realizes that. 

Stiles glances around the room, matching the now alive Hale members to pictures he’s seen of them when he realizes someone is missing. 

“Um, did someone call Cora?” He asks, interrupting Laura and Talia who were speaking. The Hales start talking amongst themselves so Stiles looks at Derek, who shakes his head. 

“Right, I’ll go call her.” He stands and points over his shoulder. Nobody seems disturbed by his absence. He steps outside and stands on the porch as he scrolls through his contacts and looks for Cora’s name. When he hits call it changes to her contact picture, which is a picture of the two standing next to each other. Cora is dressed in an authentic Wonder Woman costume and Stiles is dressed as Spiderman Homecoming, in the legit suit. He still thanks Cora for buying it for him. The call connects after a few rings.

“What’s-up nerd?” She’s crunching on what sounds like potato chips. 

“Pot kettle.” Stiles laughs into the phone. He scuffs his shoe on the wood of the porch and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. 

“So there’s no easy way to say this...” Stiles starts and turns to look back at the house. Cora falls silent on her end. 

“Who died?” Cora asks after a beat. Chips forgotten.

“The opposite actually. So, your entire family pulled a night of the living dead and surprise! They’re all back from the great beyond.” Stiles laughs at the awkward way of conveying the situation. 

“That's not even a little bit funny Stilinski.” She growls through the phone. 

“I wouldn’t joke about this.” Stiles sighs and shoves his hand in his pocket. “All of them just popped up outta nowhere and the whole town thinks they were living in New York after the fire. Someone did some heavy mojo and only the pack and your family know what actually happened.” 

“Stiles-” Cora starts. Her voice heavy and flickering. She swallows and goes to continue speaking but Stiles cuts her off. 

“I’m serious.” Stiles deadpans and stares a spot of dirt he missed on his ankle. 

“I’m on my way home.” She mutters before abruptly hanging up the phone. 

“Rude.” Stiles mumbles under his breath and stares at the phone in his hand. 

He walks back into the living room where everyone is conversing amongst themselves. Stiles feels like an outsider like he doesn’t belong. He has no place. Scott and most of the true alpha pack are talking to Philip and Lucy; Peter is snuggling hard with his wife and young spawns, and Derek can’t seem to get enough of his parents and his oldest sister. 

Stiles and Derek make eye contact and Stiles offers the wolf a small smile. Derek glances over down the hallway, and Stiles gives a small nod in understanding. He turns away from everyone and walks down the hall into the kitchen, sunlight naturally lighting up the room, giving it a warm homey feeling. Derek follows soon after. It’s quiet between them for a moment, neither looking at the other. 

“So, your family.” Stiles offers awkwardly rubbing his hand over the back of his head. His fingers tangling in his hair. He hadn’t realized how long it had gotten. He gives it a small tug. Just to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

Derek grunts in response. Which, no surprise there. It’s another minute of awkward silence before Derek speaks again. 

“Thanks for calling Cora.” Derek clears his throat and scratches blunt human nails over the post of one of the kitchen chairs. 

“No problemo.” Stiles waves him off. 

“You guys sounded friendly over the phone.” Derek raises a brow at Stiles. 

“Tsk tsk. Better watch out, or I’ll start calling you stalker wolf.” Stiles wags his finger in a ‘bad dog’ motion that causes Derek to scowl. 

“She just asked me to keep her updated on all that goes on in our friendly hellmouth so-” Stiles is fiddling with a string on his jacket. 

“It’s not a hellmouth Stiles.” Derek cuts him off cross his arms over his chest. 

“I beg to differ.” Stiles snorts and shakes his head. 

“You can’t...” Derek starts but trails off. Tilting his head, and listening to something Stiles humans ears can’t pick up on. 

“What is it boy, did timmy fall down the well?” Stiles will pat himself on the back later for not laughing the entire time he said that and the silent few seconds that followed. Derek’s lips curled back in a growl. 

“Yeah yeah yeah, I hear you.” Stiles bobbed his head and stared out the back door. 

“Derek, honey.” Talia Hale and all her alpha glory glides into the kitchen and stands next to her son. She gives Stiles a cursory once-over, and apparently deems him not a threat, because she turns to Derek. 

“The rest of the local pack are gonna come over tonight for dinner. Your father wants to do a barbeque, and Laura wanted to do a big bonfire to promote, and I quote, ‘pack bonding’.” Talia has a soft smile on her face. Derek offers a similar smile and a nod. 

Stiles snorts. Because he has definitely used the phrase ‘pack bonding’ before, and Scott would always pout.

Derek turns up the glare and shoo’s him out of the kitchen. All the way to the front door, because apparently all the rest of the pack have left. Only the Hales remain sprawled out in the living room. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Stiles says as Derek physically pushes him out of the door and glares at him as Stiles makes his way towards his jeep. Muttering ‘sourwolf’ under his breath as he clambers into the jeep. 

The barbeque works out perfectly, with it being the end of June and summer break. Stiles tells his dad the truth, that he’s going to the Hale’s for a bbq. John nods along and makes an offhand comment about them being back from New York, which pretty much cements the whole ‘town being under some kinda mojo’ thing about the Hales being alive. Most of Scott’s pack is already lounging in the backyard. They all seem at home and comfortable, even the Hales seem at ease with an unfamiliar pack in their home. Even Jackson, Isaac, Boyd and Erica are there. Although the first is looking ready to commit murder, if not for Lydia keeping a hold on his arm. But as Stiles watches from afar Jackson seems to settle once he dives into conversion with Derek’s aunt and uncle. Lydia flits around making conversion with all the Hales. Mostly Peter’s wife, Felicia, which is weird. Isaac sticks close to Derek and seems most comfortable with said wolf, or Laura. Scott is talking with Talia near the grill, probably alpha to alpha. 

Stiles hums as he leans against a tree and watches. There’s a peace in the air that even he can feel. But he startles when a hand lands on his shoulder. His jaw clenches up and he glances over his shoulder to see Peter grinning at him. Stiles shakes the wolfs hand off and turns so that the tree is at his back and he’s facing Peter. 

“What do you want? Shouldn’t you be out taking candy from babies?” Stiles frowns and tucks his arms around his chest. Peter knows he’s still afraid of him and Stiles hates that he can’t shake the fear the older wolf brings out in him. 

“Why are you lurking on the sidelines? Shouldn’t you be over there with Scott?” Peter points and gestures with his head in Scott’s direction but Stiles eyes drift to Scott and then over to where Derek, Laura, and Isaac are sprawled across blankets laid out around the bonfire. Derek is smiling and laughing with his sister and beta. It’s a weird sight and something in Stiles' chest tightens. 

“Oh, that’s interesting.” Peter’s grin is all sealed lips and smirks. Like he knows a secret no one else gets to know.

“What?” Stiles asks, genuinely confused. 

Peter simply shakes his head and grabs Stiles by the back of his neck, drags him over to the patio table, sits him down and walks away. Stiles stays a minute looking at the confused faces that meet him. He goes to stand when a hand on his shoulder keeps him seated and a plate of food is put down in front of him. Peter points to the food before walking around the table, back to his chair next to his wife. Stiles tucks into the food, listening to the light conversations around the table.

The backyard goes quiet, and Stiles can hear tires crunching against the rock driveway. Some of the Hale pack goes tense as thudding steps surround the house, and Cora comes barreling into the backyard. She stops short when she sees all of them, and her eyes well up when they land on her parents. Talia and Kevin over to their daughter, Laura and two others all follow close behind. They all fall to their knees, Cora in the center, in one big bear hug. Stiles can hear the quiet sobs from where he’s still seated at the table. The hug is over soon enough and they all stand. Everyone settles back down and eats. 

As the sun sets, everyone lays out around the large fire pit and there's idle chatter. Eventually, the topic changes to the Hales inquiring about what BH had been like in their absence. All the teens go quiet, thinking back as to what their lives have been like the past three years. Lydia is the first to speak up; starting from their Sophomore year where Peter went apeshit and killed people and turned a bunch of teens. The Hale pack is stunned, and Peter has the decency to look ashamed (now that his family is alive again). Then about the Argent family. Laura clings to Derek and Cora a little tighter when they get to that part. Then about Jackson being a Kanima. Erica and Boyd watch Stiles when they ghost over the two wolves being captured and tortured. The rest of the pack still not knowing that Stiles had been there too. Jackson then being turned into a wolf and staying in BH, the alpha pack rolling into town; Talia lets out a growl when they get to that part of the story. Derek giving up his alpha powers to save Cora, Peter killing Jennifer. 

When they get to the nogitsune they all go quiet and look at Stiles, who in turn sits up straight and curls his knees into his chest. Malia gets up from where she had been sitting next to Kira and presses into Stiles side. She scratches her fingers through his hair, the way she used to when he would have nightmares when she stayed the night. Stiles lets out a breath, realizing he’d been holding it. His shoulders relax and he gestures for Scott to continue. Scott tells them about the spirit escaping the nemeton. What the nogitsune was, the havoc he reeked on the town using Stiles body. Cora punches his shoulder once the pack finishes telling the tale. Stiles lets out a nervous laugh to break the silence. 

“But everything is fine now, and now you guys are back so it’s like, double the protection.” Stiles gestures to all the Hales. Talia nods and they all fall back into easy chatter, even Stiles.

-

Two weeks go by, and the Hales aren't seen around town much. The townspeople think it’s just them settling back in from being in New York. 

It starts as Cora texting him that she was starving and couldn’t move. So, Stiles cooked her a lasagna because he knows it’s her favorite, and brought it over. They settle down on the couch in the living room, and Cora has the glass dish balanced in her lap and is eating it straight of the dish with a fork. Stiles laughs as she makes a mess out of the noodles. They watch Iron Man two before switching over to Batman Returns. 

Laura comes into the living room and steals a bite of the lasagna, moaning at the taste and asking Stiles to make some more. So, he cooks two more the next night and brings them over. Two turns into five, to feed the whole Hale pack. Lasagna switches to a casserole; casseroles turn into pans and baskets of baked goods; cookies then cupcakes, pies, and cakes. Strange Polish desserts that Thea and Shannon Hale cry over; cranberry orange muffins that Cora wants to be buried with. Derek’s favorite turns out to be warm apple pie with homemade vanilla ice cream. He ends up slowly learning what all the Hales like and what they don’t.

Stiles can tell they still don’t completely trust him, and Talia always keeps one eye on him whenever he’s in the room, but it’s something.


	2. comfort food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first victim of the Stilinski charm is Felicia Hale, Peter's wife.

After the Hale family stopped questioning why Stiles hung around them so often, they started warming up to the human. He still brought over food often for them, always way too much; even for a pack made mostly of wolves who have no problem eating their own weight in food. It was strange for Felicia, not having to cook for the pack of heathens. 

But one night in July, Stiles came over a little later than usual, stocked full of bags of food. He staggers into the kitchen and dumps the bags onto the counter; a couple of green peppers spill out of the bag and he only catches one. 

“What's all this?” Felicia asks with a small smile.

“I thought we could cook dinner together?” The teen offers lamely, gesturing from the bags of food to himself then Felicia. 

“Oh.” Felicia is shocked and stares dumbly at the boy. 

“Laura had mentioned that she missed your cooking.” Stiles blushes and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Oh.” Felicia repeats, but this time it’s with a smile and she places a hand over her heart, filling with warmth and love. 

“What did you have in mind?” She asks, rolling up her sleeves.

“I was thinking stir-fry?” Stiles asks, hopping over to the sink and washing his hands. “I know Derek likes steak, and I figured we could just make one large pot and it should feed everyone?” He tilts his head back, and his words are a little slurred from the harsh angle. 

“That sounds lovely.” Felicia starts emptying the bags and laying the ingredients out on the counter. She walks over to the fridge and pulls out a container of mushrooms, and Stiles makes a noise. She turns and looks at him, and sees him frowning at the mushrooms in her hands. 

“What is it?” Felicia asks.

“Cora doesn’t like mushrooms.” Stiles flicks his hands, and water droplets fly off his fingertips. 

A cord struck in her chest, because she wasn’t there when little Cora went from devouring anything that was put in front of her to not liking mushrooms. Stiles must pick up on it, because he changes the topic real fast. He starts rattling off facts about bell peppers as he washes the vegetables. Felicia realizes quick on that she does more watching than cooking, as they start prepping all the vegetables and the steak for dinner. The boy is spastic and constantly moving, constantly talking. He waves the large chef’s knife around as he talks about helping Scott through learning control, and jokes about the young alpha having tried to kill him. 

Felicia can see the light bounce off of a scar peeking out from the collar of the kid’s shirt. Two strips curving over his shoulder, that look too much like the swipe of claws. She wonders how many other scars he has from running with wolves, and how loyal the teen must be. But what peaks her interest most is how he’s able to still dice up the vegetables with precision, considering how much he’s talking. 

“When did you learn to cook so well?” The older human asks, as she pulls a couple frying pans out form the cabinet and sets them on the stove. Stiles pauses, and there's a look of bittersweetness that passes over his features. He sets the knife down on the counter and braces his hands on the top. 

“My mom.” He looks up at Felicia with a small smile and furrowed brows. Something in his voice, she just knows. 

“How long ago did she pass?” Felicia asks, she scoops up the veggies and tosses them into the pan. 

“When I was nine.” Stiles offers as he grabs the spices from the cabinet next to the stove. Felicia goes quiet because that would have been around the same time when the fire was. 

“It was actually the day before the Hale fire. She’d been sick for a while, but she passed the night before the fire. I was with her.” Stiles scratches at his hands and sniffs. 

“What was her name?” Felicia asks, pulling a new stick of butter from the fridge and yelling for Cora. 

“Claudia.” Stiles takes the stick from her and cuts a chunk off, tossing it into the pan with the steak. 

Cora and Kevin then come into the kitchen, Felicia asking Cora to set the table for dinner. The young wolf ghosts a hand across Stiles' shoulder, as she walks past him to get the plates down from the cabinet. Kevin and Felicia watch her with wide eyes, knowing what scent marking looked like from experience. Felicia coughs into her shoulder and stirs the veggies, adding in some salt and pepper. Kevin stares at the boy for a moment, before he grabs cups and silverware and walks over to the dining table to help Cora set it. 

“She must’ve been a wonderful woman.” Felicia remarks as she chops up some fresh garlic for the strips of steak. Cora and Kevin don’t come back to the kitchen after setting the table.

“Yeah, she was the best.” Stiles sniffs again and a few tears trail down his cheeks. He wipes them away and looks up at Felicia. 

“She uh… she had a box of recipes. I found it two years after she died. My dad was still taking her being gone really hard, and we had already known about his heart condition, so she had come up with a bunch of heart-healthy, all natural ingredient recipes. I was so bad at cooking in the beginning, I wasn’t even tall enough to reach over the stove.” Stiles lets out a wet laugh and drops his hand down to show how tall he was then. 

“It’s still kinda hard to look at them. Seeing her handwriting, and the little notes of what I and my dad liked and didn’t like. But it’s like, she’s still here with me at the same time… does that make sense?” Stiles shrugs a shoulder and mumbles out something under his breath that she doesn’t catch. 

“Oh sweetie, it's okay.” Felicia coos and walks over to Stiles. 

She opens her arms and he walks into them. He’s taller than her by a decent amount, so her head reaches his shoulder. She wraps her arms around his back and rubs a soothing hand up and down his spine. It takes a couple seconds before his arms come up and reciprocate the embrace, his head bent at an awkward angle to rest his forehead on her shoulder. The teen heaves a couple sobs before they die off into sniffles. His tears are hot against her neck, and she whispered reassurances into his ear, trying to imagine how it would be for her two babies, if she or Peter were to die. Stiles is the first to pull away, with glassy eyes and red splotchy cheeks. She offers him a paper towel and he cleans his face up, splashing cold water from the sink to calm his features. 

They finish up cooking in a settled silence, working around each other in a weird sort of harmony. They dish up all the stir-fry into one large serving bowl, and Stiles shoves a serving spoon into the bowel before carrying it to the table. Stiles comes back into the kitchen with his empty cup in hand to get some water. 

“Anytime you wanna talk about her we can, and you’re always welcome to cook here.” Felicia rubs a hand on the back of his shoulder, and he nods at her with a grateful smile. 

Peter comes in through the back door and looks from his wife to the teen. His nostrils flaring before a small smile crosses his face and he walks over to Felicia, wrapping an arm around her waist and reeling her in for a kiss. Stiles scrunches up his face and makes a disgusted noise before he walks back to the table, setting his cup down and then yelling that dinner was ready. 

The rest of the Hales come downstairs and gather around the table. Lydia and Kira come through the door behind Philip and Lucy, and Stiles goes to the kitchen to grab two extra plates for the girls.

They all settle down and dig into the food; all that’s heard are comments of ‘this is good’ and ‘oh my god this is fucking fantastic’. Derek makes a noise of appreciation as he scoops out a couple extra pieces of steak. Cora picks through her pile, checking for mushrooms; Felicia looks over at Stiles who is smiling down at his plate. There's a warm flutter in her stomach that she has always associated with seeing her kids. She glances around the table again, watching her family make idle chatter with Stiles and the two girls as they all eat. Peter thanks Felicia and Stiles for dinner. 

Felicia knows it won’t take long before the boy becomes pack. Not long at all.


	3. bio 101: for mythical creatures that go bump in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wasn’t expecting to ever get over his fear and dislike of Peter. Until suddenly it wasn’t even there anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hardcore love Peter and Stiles as friends and you can pry this short ass chapter from my cold dead hands.

It’s the middle of July, and it’s fucking hot. Stiles is dressed in basketball shorts and a muscle tank, with BH lacrosse printed across the chest. He’s sprawled out on the floor in the Hales library, which is huge. He has a stand alone fan centered on him as he flips through books; stacks of leatherbound journals are piled up around him. A circle of half open books surrounds him in an oval shape. Talia had asked him to look into harpys, because they were apparently very real, and becoming an issue for beacon hills at the moment.

He has three books laid out in front of him. Two are in latin, and the other in spanish. One of the latin ones and the spanish one are both bestiarys, and the other is a journal from some ancient ancestor of the Hales. Stiles can decipher most of the latin from what he’s learned from Lydia but the spanish one is stumping him; it’s not like the spanish he learned in school, it’s way old and handwritten.

“Ugh!” Stiles groans and shoves the bestiary away from him, going limp and digging his nose into the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Peter asks, from where he’s leaning against the banister, like the creeper he is. 

“I hate spanish.” Stiles mumbles into the floor. 

“Now that’s just disrespectful, we are of spanish descent.” Peter waves a hand, and walks down the short staircase separating the large table in the middle of the room and all the bookshelves.

“Yeah, no shit.” Stiles sits up and rubs the tip of his nose, crossing his legs to sit indian style.

“Let’s see it it.” Peter holds his hand out for the book and Stiles considers for a brief second biting the wolf’s hand; just for fun. He leans forward, grabbing the book and throwing it at Peter, who of course catches it. 

Peter thumbs through the book skimming over most of the pages. He glances from the spanish bestiary, to Stiles, and then to all the books encircling the teen.

“What does my sister have you working on?” Peter’s grin is all teeth, and much too wolfish. Stiles rocks back to inch away and looks at the book in Peter’s hand before answering. 

“Harpys.” Stiles shrugs a shoulder and grabs the latin journal and pulls it into his lap, flipping a couple of the pages of the book directly to his left, and closing the one behind him. 

Peter makes a noise of surprise and steps into Stiles circle and behind the teen. Stiles curls forward and twists his neck, so that he can see what the wolf is doing without baring his throat. He _knows_ what that means. Peter has his chin resting on his left fist with his right arm crossed over his chest, left elbow resting on the arm. His eyes flit from book to book, looking at the titles of the books that are closed and stacked to the side; then to the ones that are at different levels of being read. 

“You’re not reading all of these at the same time are you?” Peter lets his arms drop, and steps back out of Stiles circle. Stiles rights himself back up and cracks his neck because the awkward angle was starting to hurt. 

“Um, ya. That’s kind of the point.” Stiles sweeps his hands around the circle/oval shape. Peter’s face goes serious for a second, before giving a look that Stiles can only pinpoint as impressed washes over the wolfs face. Which, _what_? 

“That quite brilliant.” Peter nods his head and walks over to the far right. He grabs one of the arm chairs and drags it over to where Stiles has nested. Stiles scrunches up his face at the wolf in obvious displeasure, but Peter simply brushes him off in favor of asking him how he’s going about it. 

“Well those i’ve already confirmed don’t have enough information on harpys to be relevant,” Stiles points to the stack to his left. “Those had some information but not the kind I needed,” He then points to the three stacks on his left. “I’m cross referencing all the information these books have to try and narrow down which species of harpys are in Beacon, because apparently there’s more than one type.” Stiles grimaces when he remembers some of the images depicted in the books. “I keep the books on the pages with the information that I’m currently checking.”

Stiles finishes with grabbing the spanish journal Peter had dropped at the front of his circle. Peter had nodded along as Stiles spoke, and Stiles was surprised at how much Stiles _couldn’t_ see the old Peter. But then a dark look passes over Peter’s face, and all thoughts he have go whooshing away. 

“Back when Scott was first turned, I offered you the bite.” Peter sits back in the chair and crosses his legs. 

“I try not to remember that.” Stiles head snaps back in disgust. 

“Yes, I distinctly remember you turning down my offer.” Peter nods his head. 

“Yeah, and you called me a liar.” Stiles hisses as he stands. He sways for a second before all the black dots clear from his visions, and he hops around the books to grab his laptop from the table. Sitting back down in is circle, facing Peter. The wolf hums and watches him. 

“But you weren’t.” Peter conceits and points a finger at the boy. 

“I already told you I wasn’t!” Stiles rolls his eyes, and presses harder on the keys than necessary. The fan blows at one of his books at a bad angle and flips someone the pages. Stiles topples over when his hand darts out to save his place. 

“Why?” Peter asks and the room fals into silence.Stiles sits back up and stares down at his laptop for a moment, before he chances a glance up at the wolf. Peter is staring at him with an even look. No malice or creeper look in sight, just genuine curiosity. 

“I saw what Scott went through. I saw how hard he fought to control the change, and I saw how it made him better. It gave him the courage to ask-” Stiles pauses because he hasn’t said her name since she had died. He still wasn’t ready. He bunches his fists up in his lap and lets out a slow exhale, already feeling a panic attack edging its way into his chest, but he clenches his fists harder and takes deep breaths, calming the panic. 

“I thought about it, after Isaac was turned. But then I realized I probably would have made a better human than a wolf. When you turn everything becomes heightened; all the urges and the emotions and everything. I saw all of them go through it and man, did I want to be one? Yeah, I’ll admit I did want to at one point; but then when you were all psycho wolf and had us trapped in the high school I punched Jackson in the face. I was just so angry that no one would listen to me, so I punched him. I remember how scared Lydia had looked the second I had done it. Could you imagine if I had been a wolf? I would’ve taken his head off.” 

Stiles lets out a small laugh and chance a look up at Peter, who is listening very intently, now leaning slightly forward, his eyes flighting to every single micro movement Stiles makes.

“God, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.” Stiles scrubs a hand over his head and his hair sticks straight up. He hasn’t had a chance to shave it down again. Peter hums but says nothing. 

“I don’t know, I guess at one point I just realized one day that there was nothing wrong with being human. I don’t need to be a wolf to be useful or to be pack, right? Because I read in one book you could be human and in a pack, and I know a couple of you are human.” Peter cuts him off with a nod, and Stiles slumps in on himself a little. 

“Then that thing came and played puppeteer with my body, and Deaton said it chose me because I was human; because it would have had a harder time controlling a shifter or anyone supernaturally inclined, and do you know what my first thought was?” Stiles tosses the pen he’d been twirling at his computer and shoves his hands under his legs. 

“Not in the slightest.” Peter leans back in the chair and stretches his legs out all the way and crossed his ankles. 

“ _Thank god_ it was me, and not one of them.” Stiles breaths out. He lets out a hysterical laugh and drags his knees up to his chest. 

Peter doesn’t push any further, he got his answer. He got even more than he had been looking for. Stiles was very expressive, whether his mouth was moving or not, his body spoke sentences even if he wasn’t aware. Peter can’t help but feel a kindred soul to the young boy. Losing his family to the fire, to the hunters, it had wrecked him; he almost didn't get back up. But he had, and he had done the most unspeakable, but he wouldn’t change it. Then there was Stiles, who had been possessed by a thousand year old spirit and survived; who possibly might have more blood on his hands than Peter. 

Peter stands and waits for Stiles to look up at him. After a few minutes, the boy does look up hesitantly. 

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry for trying to kill you.” Peter gestures with his hand, and a slight blush covers the tips of his ears. Stiles rolls his bottom lip into his mouth to try and keep from laughing. He gives a slow jerky nod in acceptance.

“ _And_ … you would have made an excellent wolf, that I am sure of.” Peter stresses his words and points at Stiles, right where his heart is. All signs of humour leave the teens face, and he looks unbelievable young yet worn down at the same time. It’s a vulnerability Peter is willing to bet only a select few have seen in the boy. 

“Now, let me see that spanish monstrosity.” Peter sits back down in the chair, and holds a hand out for the book. Stiles is all too happy to get rid of it.

-

That’s how Derek and Talia find them three hours later. Talia pushes the door open, her son standing right behind her. She had been curious to the kind of progress the human had made, and Derek didn’t trust Peter to be gone that long without mayhem springing up. 

Stiles was laying on his back on a pile of cushions, and he had a book over his face, swearing. Peter was standing by the table, a book in hand and the other hand flat against another book. 

“And I’m telling you, for the hundredth time Stiles _no_ , a griffon and a harpy are _not_ from the same genus family.” Peter sighs heavily and shakes his head. Stiles sits up abruptly, the book goes flying. 

“Okay but how do you _know_? I don’t see no ‘bio 101: for mythical creatures that go bump in the night’. They could have a single common ancestor.” Stiles stands up on the cushions and bounces a couple of times. Peter stares at him with a disapproving frown, arms crossed. 

“Like what?” He eggs the teen on. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Stiles trails off and glances down at a stack of books, eyes scanning the title. He nudges the book with his bare toe, so that he can see the book under it. His eyes light up and his eyes dart back up Peter, wide with mirth. “a dragon.”

Peter stares at the other boy for a long moment. He slowly shakes his head back and forth and lets his arms drop to his sides. 

“And I had such high hopes for you.” Peter sighs and turns back to the table. Stiles drops back onto the cushions and roars with laughter. 

Derek snorts and walks away from the door, now satisfied that his uncle wasn't out burning the town to the ground. Talia stayed a moment longer, to see her youngest sibling glance over his shoulder at the teen, a small smile on his face. Peter tapped a finger on the book he had laid open on the table. When her brother turned back to the table she could see the slightest glow to his eyes. The supernatural blue was quiet, barely even a hum; but Talia knew what it meant when it came to her brother. When Peter was happy and in his element, when Peter trusted whole and fully, his control would slip just a little. Out off all the oldest Hale children, Peter had _always_ been the closest to his wolf. 

Talia nodded her head as she left the door cracked and walked away. This boy sure was worming his way into her pack, wasn’t he. She cracked a small smile as she continued down the hall in search of her husband. 

That would make two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know some of you have commented on the way I’m going about writing Talia and I know it’s pretty different from how she’s usually portrayed but I hope y’all like what I do in the end. Thank you so much for all the love I’ve gotten so far. It’s more than I was expecting!


	4. true colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shannon Hale is meddlesome and awesome.

Shannon Hale sees everything. She has and always would. Especially when it came to her pack. Talia was working with the small ragtag team that called themselves a pack, which they were far from. They had the right intentions but not the right means. Most of them only trusted the others as far as they could throw them. Most of them keeping their troubles and secrets to themselves. A shame really, they could be something great. 

“Knock knock.” Shannon rasps her knuckles against the frame of Derek’s door. Her nephew looks up from where he’s putting away some shirts in his dresser and smiles at Shannon. 

“Hey aunt Shan.” Derek says in a soft voice and gestures for her to come in. She pushes off from the frame and flounces into his room, plopping down on his bed. 

“So the McCall Pack.” Shannon draws out her words, keeping them light. 

“What about them?” Derek asks, putting away a stack of henleys. 

“The human one, the one that flails a lot.” Shannon pulls at a loose thread of the blanket and hums. She hears the slight uptick in Derek’s heart, rushing faster at the mention of the human. 

“What about Stiles?” Derek’s arms cross over his chest and Shannon sees the defensiveness. 

“Doesn’t seem to know how to mind his own business does he?” Shannon smirks up at her nephew with raised brows. 

Derek snorts and shakes his head. His arms drop and one rests on top of his dresser. The smile stays on his face and he looks to recall a memory, eyes crinkling when he looks back at his aunt. 

“Yeah.” Derek nods his head, not offering anything else. 

Oh. _Oh_. Shannon realizes in that moment. It’s been a while since she’s seen Derek have a crush. Maybe more than a crush but she’ll leave it at that simple word for now. She almost had forgotten his tells. Derek was cute when he had romantic feelings for someone. Her nephew turns into a giant mushy teddy bear, hence his nickname der-bear. It was cute though, Shannon would admit. The look just the thought of the human brought to her nephew. 

Shannon pushed off the bed, standing with a flourish, and hummed again. A knowing smirk on her face as she flounced out of his room. She’d have to see if the other felt the same way as her nephew. She flew down the steps, grabbing the ball of the banister to spin on the last step and dance into the kitchen. Her blonde curls bounced around her shoulders and she grabbed them in handfuls, throwing them up in a quick bun. 

“What are you up to?” Thea asks from where she’s leaning against the countertop, phone in hand.

“Don’t snoop, it’s unbecoming of a young lady.” Shannon tuts, bopping Thea on the nose. Thea just raises her brows and stands up straight. 

“Snooping is your middle name.” Thea counters, tilting her head and squinting at her sister. 

“Whatever it is, don’t get me in trouble.” Thea shakes her head and walks out of the kitchen. 

Shannon lets out a mock evil laugh and rubs her hands together. She lips out the back door and heads into the preserve. Picking her pace up to a jog once she’s out of earshot. She tracks through the woods towards the developments and comes out into the humans' backyard. She can hear his fast heartbeat somewhere in the house. Shannon tilts her head up and inhales deeply. Picking out which room is his, his scent concentrated and the kids' window is wide open. Shannon scales the side of the house and swings into the kids' room. She stops short in her musings of the room. Red threads are strung up, stretching from wall to wall and intertwining. Papers and sticky notes cover most of the far wall, a game of chess is set up high on a stack of books. Tags hang off each piece and she purses her lips looking closer on the board. Derek’s name sticking out the most on the white king. Shannon slides in between the threads looking at some of the things on the wall. Her eyes narrow when she sees it’s old clippings of the fire. Her train of thought is cut short when she hears him advancing to the room. 

Shannon ducks under the threads and slides behind his door. Stiles walks into his room, bobbing his head to a silent beat, water bottle in one hand and a sandwich hanging from his mouth. Shannon covers her mouth to keep from laughing. She waits until he’s swallowed his mouthful of food to slide out from her hiding spot and creep up behind him. A floorboard creaks under her foot and he whirls around, brandishing the water bottle like a weapon, his sandwich fallen on the floor and empty hand covering his fast beating heart. 

“Jesus! I swear I really am gonna put bells on you Hales. My heart can only take so much.” Stiles breaths and shakes his head and tosses his bottle onto his bed. 

Shannon tilts her head at his words. She knows he’s friends with her niece Cora but she has a feeling he means more than just Cora. 

“Oh?” Shannon smirks and her eyes are wide and sharp. 

“Does sneaking into teenage boys room run in the family? Did Derek learn this from you?” Stiles accuses as he falls into his desk chair. Hitting the space board on the computer to wake it up. 

Shannons eyes light up at that fact. Oh, she is so gonna tease Derek about this when she gets home. 

“I know that look. That’s not a good look. God, it’s like you're a mix between Derek and Peter, it’s fucking weirding me out. Please tell me your not another Peter I can only handle so much of creeper wolf.” Stiles babbles on and Shannon has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. 

“More accurately it would be Peter is like me.” Shannon gestures with her hand and the humans' eyes widen. 

“Older sister, right okay.” Stiles lips purse as he nods absentmindedly. 

“Did you need something or do you just enjoy scaring the crap out of me?” Stiles asks after a minute of silence. Already fidgeting in his chair from inactivity. 

“Right I just had a question for.” Shannon perches herself on the kids' bed. Noting how much the teens' scent is absent from the bed. The kid just keeps getting more and more interesting. She notices how his heart stutters and her brow furrows slightly. He’s, _scared_. 

“My nephew, Derek-” Shannons mouth snaps shut and a smile curls across her face. It’s a wonder neither wolf nor human knew about their feeling because the human was even more obvious. 

Stiles' heart speeds up just like Derek’s had. A small blush curls around the teens' ears and his eyes drop to his lap where he starts to fiddle with his fingers. It’s so cute, Shannon gushes in her head. 

“Never mind.” Shannon sings and slides out the kids' window. She ignores the calls of her name as she jogs into the woods. 

When she gets back to the house Talia is standing on the deck staring at her. Shannon stays at the bottom of the steps, looking up at her sister and alpha. Talia has a neutral flat look on her face, arms crossed over her chest. 

“You went and saw the human?” She questions with a raising of her brow. 

“Yup.” Shannon pops the ‘p’ and swings her arms. Wolfish smile spreading and eyes crinkling. Pun intended. 

“Did you find out what you wanted?” Talia, her ever knowing sister, drops her arms to her hips and a small smile crosses her face. 

“You should've seen his face Tal.” Shannon gushes and snickers. 

“I know you don’t like him, but, oh my god Derek and the kid are so gone on each other.” Shannon tilts her head back and cackles. 

Talia clears her throat with a frown. Her hands tightening on her hips and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Its times like this Shannon is reminded Talia is also just like them. Still adjusting to having lost so much time. Remembering losing their family, phantoms pains of the fire ripping them apart. 

“It’s not that I don’t care for the boy.” Talia starts, eyes locking on her younger sisters. 

“You just don’t trust him.” Shannon finishes and nods her head. 

“Can you blame me?” Talia lets out an exasperated sigh and her shoulders slump. 

“No, I don’t. I know your worried and of course, we feel the same. But just give the kid a chance, I think you’ll be surprised.” Shannon walks up the three steps of the deck and places her hand on her sister's shoulder. Gives it a gentle squeeze and gives her a firm nod with a smile. 

“Hey, Laura!” Shannon yells at the house as she pivots around Talia and slides through the back door. 

“Derek's got a crush!” Shannon yells in response to Laura’s questioning ‘what’.

Talia hears Laura stumbling down the stairs to hear more from her aunt and Derek’s indignant cries from his room. Cora is cackling in the living room where little Stephanie is asking her what a crush is. Talia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. Taking in pack and home and the happiness that wafts off each member. She can pick up subtle hints of the other pack, mostly the human boy. 

“Hmm.” Talia hums as she turns on her heel and heads back into the house.


	5. color spectrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia Hale is probably the one who trusts Stiles the least given her past. That is, until she talks to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the beginning of this chapter talks about Olivia's past a lot because I feel like you need to understand her backstory to see why she ends up /relating/ to Stiles more.

Olivia Hale was a Hale not through blood, but through marriage. Shannon and she had only been married for two months when the fire had happened. But she had been a constant in the wolf's life longer than that. Olivia and Shannon had met, ironically, at a convention for the supernatural. Olivia with her coven (read: group of friends who occasionally did spells together) and Shannon with Talia and Peter. They had hit it off right away and found out they were only separated by a town. Dating came easy to them, Shannon was a wolf where gender didn’t matter to most of them and Olivia had long since been out of the closet and was proud of who she was. 

But it hadn't always been like that for her. Olivia grew up in the foster system, never having known her parents who had given her up when she was three months old. She bounced from house to house, a family never keeping her. Olivia realized she could do magic when she was about six, right after the Vons had sent her back to the orphanage. They called her a black sheep since she had come into the system as an infant and hadn’t been adopted. Always being sent back by possible adoptions and foster homes alike. They said she was bad luck but the truth was it was her magic. Her being a white witch, her powers were strongly tied to her emotions and with not having been trained since birth, she had no idea. 

She turned eighteen on a rainy day, the orphanage sending her out on her own. A nice woman who had worked there had set her up with a small rundown apartment a couple streets over with the first two months paid. She was able to find a job at a little cafe and barely kept up with the rent but she survived. A couple of years go by like this and Olivia manages to get a semi-decent handle on whatever it is she is and keeping her powers in check. 

Then June rolled around and she saw a small flyer pinned up on the corkboard at her work advertising a the pride parade. It worked out that she ended up with the day off and she decided to go. Dressed down in regular everyday clothes and feeling out of place amongst all the colors and scantily dressed people. They handed her flyers and pamphlets and after walking all the stalls her back pocket was overflowing with free condoms that people kept handing her.

Besides knowing she wasn’t all that human, she had also never looked at boys the way the other girls her age had. She was always too busy looking at said girls. She watched the other people as they walked around her, dolled up in rainbow colors as they laughed and kissed and existed. She smiled at the warmth that settled in her stomach, finally feeling like she belonged somewhere. 

Two men dressed like fairies twirled around her offering her a brownie. She had taken it and nibbled on it without a second thought, everyone here was so nice she had no idea the brownie had a special _quality_ to it. 

An hour later found her wandering through the stalls again, giggling and waving her hand at couples, rainbow sparks flying from her fingers. To anyone else, it just looked like she was high and throwing glitter. To a small, five-person group, they knew what she really was. 

“Hey honey, how ya doin’?” A tall blonde walked up to Olivia, the tips of her hair dyed to look like the rainbow. 

“Super happy.” Olivia giggles and tips her head back. She throws her arms up in arcs and more rainbow sparks spread through the air. 

A short androgynous looking brunette snorted and threw an arm around Olivia’s shoulders. The white witches head lolled to look at the person next to her and her brows raise in shock. 

“So pretty.” She whispers and her fingers stroke the brunettes face. 

“Thanks.” The brunette laughs and curls their fingers around Olivia’s shoulder. 

“How about you come with us for a little bit?” A smaller petite blonde asks in a sweet voice, her fingers intertwining with the taller blondes and smiling at Olivia who nods her head with a lazy smile. 

They take her to a small alcove up a hill away from the parade. They sit on the marble benches in front of a wall of chiseled words and surrounded by pillars. The layout is completely open and there are people laid out on blankets and towels next to the small monument like area enjoying the atmosphere from the parade. The two blondes sit on either side of Olivia and the other three take the bench next to them. 

“This your first pride?” The taller blonde asks voice thick with a new york accent, her elbow rest on her knee and body tilted to look at Olivia. 

With the high slowly starting to wear off as they feed her water and finger sandwiches, she nods and offers a smile. They sit in a comfortable silence until Olivia is mostly back to herself and asks them why they pulled her away.

“You’re a witch right?” The androgynous one who she’d come to learn was called Page asked. Olivia's brows furrow and she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. 

The fifth member who’d been silent the entire time, a tall lithe man with electric green hair eyed her with squinted eyes. He leans back on the bench, kicking his legs out and crossing his ankles. His rolls jeans raise a little higher and Olivia can see the beginnings of a tattoo. 

“She doesn’t know.” His voice is deep with a slow draw that shocks Olivia a little. 

“That true?” The new yorker asks and places a hand on Olivia's’ knee who nods with a frown. 

She tells them about her life growing up and her apparent powers lashing out. About them being the reason she never got placed and bounced around foster homes. Then they talk to her. Taking turns to explain who and what they are and about another world she had no idea existed. They are a small coven, very unlike over covens who were usually related by blood. This coven was a small ragtag team of misfits. The new yorker, Abby, was a mage; her parents killed by a kelpie and raised by her human aunt. The smaller blonde, Maisy, was a white witch like Olivia. She and Abby had been together for three years and it was only because of Abby that Maisy had begun practicing. Maisy had been raised in a home that didn’t believe in magic. Her father human and her mother a druid who had long since stopped using her magic and strictly forbade it. 

Page was a necromancer because apparently, that was a thing. Page was also a cross-species. They were a spell gone wrong by their parents who attempted to give life to their stillborn child and Page had been a product of that magic. Page grew up with a need to consume human flesh, very much like a zombie. They had a deal with the local morgue and as long as Page had a weekly consumption of some flesh they remained in control of themselves. Pages abilities didn’t kick in until about two years ago when they had met Remi. 

Remi, the green haired man was their elected leader. He’d grown up in a coven of his own down in Louisiana but the older he got the more he didn’t agree with their ways. So once he was eighteen he’d packed up and left, sneaking away into the night and never looking back. He was a shaman, being his own black sheep amongst his first coven of mages and druids. His magic was centered around healing and he drew a lot of his strength from the earth. Akira was the last one of their group. He was a fair-skinned Japanese who looked to be around the same age as Olivia. He’d been shunned by his coven when he’d come out as gay to them. Remi had thrown his arm around Akira’s shoulder when the smaller mentioned that fact and Akira had given him a thoughtful smile. Akira was a mage like Abby and the introductions were left at that. 

They offer to teach her about magic and the true world she belonged to. Eventually, she would join their coven and start a small business with Maisy. Opening a little magic store, selling things for believers in the front and things for those who knew in the back. Three more years would go by before she becomes one of the most powerful white witches of her time and she would meet Shannon Hale. 

So when the supposed human of the McCall pack started hanging around her family she knew he wasn’t human like everyone claimed he was. She had a penchant of sniffing out magic users and she could tell the boy was something, just not what. Which was not something that happened to her very often and after one day she’d seen the boy manipulating mountain ash she called Remi. 

“ _Olivia, not often you call me._ ” Remi’s slow draw was lit with amusement. 

“Hey Rem, how’s Akira and Ami?” Olivia was always one for pleasantries with her friends (read: coven). 

“ _He’s good, we’re good. Ami said her first word the other day. I’ll have to send you the video._ ” Remi laughs and says something to whoever he’s with. 

Ami was their eight-month-year-old daughter they had adopted from an orphanage. Much like Olivia’s situation had been, abandoned by a mundane family that didn’t know any better. 

“There’s a boy, he’s apart of the small pack were sharing territory with. I can sense magic in him but others around him aren’t aware of it and the other day he was manipulating mountain ash.” Olivia trails on, pacing the library.

“ _Well, mountain ash manipulation is quite common in druids. Have you talked to him about?_ ” Remi questions, cooing at the end at his daughter. 

Olivia chews on her lips tossing the idea around. She knew members of the pack were still hesitant with the non-human boy. As was she, and they can’t be blamed for it. A hunter tricking their son and nephew into a trust that lead to their deaths. Makes a person lose faith in others. The door to the library snaps open and the aforementioned teen bumbles into the library, hefting his book bag up on his shoulder and mumbling to himself. 

“I’ll call you back.” Olivia mutters into the phone as her eyes follow the boy. She hangs up before hearing Remi’s response and the teens eyes snap up to hers. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be in here.” Stiles fumbles through his words and his cheeks tint pink. 

“Who told you, you could come in here?” Olivia asks with crossed arms and raised brows. 

“Uh, Cora,” He trails off stuttering. She smirks at that, good, he should be afraid of her.

“Sorry-I’ll just.” He points his thumb over his shoulder and scurries out of the room. 

Olivia chuckles as she watches his retreating back. Definitely not a white witch nor and shaman. She confides with Deaton the next day, the druid knows something, she can tell but he doesn’t give her anything besides confirming he’s not a druid either. 

June rolls back around fast and Olivia and Shannon film a video about positivity on coming out and being proud of who you are and post it on a couple pride websites. Pride has always been a little special to Olivia since her first one had brought about such good things.

Olivia is standing in the kitchen, dressed down in cotton shorts and a tee shirt when Cora and Stiles fall through the front door laughing. Or rather, Stiles is laughing and Cora is glaring at him. Stiles is wearing a deep purple shirt with the words ‘bi, bi, bi’ in caps and exclamation marks. Cora’s is a white linen shirt that says ‘pan-fried chicken’ with a pan dyed the colors for pansexual. There’s red lipstick smeared across Cora’s lips that is obviously not hers and Stiles has rainbow stickers stuck to his face. They both trapse into the kitchen, Stiles pauses at the sight of Olivia and stays were he had stopped while Cora grabs water from the fridge. 

“How was the parade?” Olivia asks, eyes staying on the other magic user.

“It was good. Dummy over there somehow talked himself onto one of the floats.” Cora snorts and grabs a paper towel to wipe the lipstick off.

Olivia hums and watches the boy who fiddles with his fingers, she sees his nails are pained the colors for bisexual. His eyes chance a look up at her and Olivia has an idea. She sends a wisp of her magic out, curling it around Stiles. The teen inhales deeply and his shoulder sag in utter relief. His eyes swirl a lazy golden color, almost mistaking it for his own regular eye color, Olivia’s eyes widen. 

“Cora, do you mind if I talk to Stiles?” Olivia shifts her weight between her legs and tries to mask her shock. 

Cora nods her head, ignoring Stiles deer in headlights look and heads upstairs to her room. It leaves Olivia and Stiles alone in the kitchen, Laura outback napping in the grass and the rest of the pack out. Olivia leans forward on the counter, resting her elbows on the island and looking at the boy, the _spark_.

“How long have you known you were a spark?” Olivia keeps her words even, not conveying her utter surprise nor does she try to be gentle with the boy. Stiles shoulders tense and he looks at Olivia with a guarded expression. 

“I uh, Deaton had called me that right around when all the supernatural shit started exploding in town. Told me to just believe and it would work or whatever. I was able to make a full mountain ash circle around a club with an amount that shouldn’t have worked. But things had been happening since before then. Whenever I get panic attacks, things would happen. The wind would pick up, the earth would shake, lightning would strike.” Stiles stumbles over his words and he rubs at the back of his neck. 

“I never really thought it was out of the ordinary you know? Freak weather accidents happen all the time and it’s Beacon Hills you know? But the way Deaton had said it I just...I knew there was something there.” Stiles trails off and offers a one-shoulder shrug looking at Olivia. 

Olivia leads him to the library. Tracing her finger across the spines of the books until she finds the one she’s looking for. It’s an old leather-bound journal, stains that she’d rather not wonder what they are, dying the leather. It’s braided shut and the pages feel fragile against touch. 

“One of the members of my coven came across this a few years ago. I had a feeling I would need it one day, appears I was correct in holding onto it.” Olivia hands Stiles the journal and stands next to him as he opens the journal. 

It’s written in an old broken version of english. Some of the words long since faded from time. Stiles flips through the pages, some of them holding drawings and symbols even Olivia has never seen. Stiles closes it and wraps the cords around it to hold it close and thanks Olivia for it. 

“I’d be happy to help you, in your training.” Olivia rests a hand on Stiles' shoulder and sends another wave of magic through him. 

He lets out a deep sigh and nods his head with a whispered ‘please’. She pulls her hand back and the boy tilts slightly into her. She smiles at that, seeing him as already a pack creature, seeking out the touch only pack provides. She turns from him and goes to walk out of the library when he calls out to her. 

“I uh, would you mind if I-if I asked you a question?” Stiles flies through his words quickly and messily. Taking hurried steps to keep her attention. 

“Go ahead.” Olivia turns back to face him and nods her assent. 

“How did you know Shannon was the one?” 

And that is not what she had expected to come from the boy. Olivia takes a moment to observe him. The way his shoulders hunch inward and he picks at his nail polish. She offers him a small smile before gesturing to the small couch in the room. He gives her a wide berth, sitting pressed into the arm of the couch, his leg bouncing up at down. 

“For wolves, it’s scent based. They identify with scents mostly, with family and home. Shannon always tells me I smell like the flowers her mother used to grow in the backyard. That to her, I smell like childhood memories and love. To us witches, it’s the way our magic seeks them out. My magic is always rolling around under my skin, through my veins and in the spaces between my bones. But when I’m with Shannon it settles, it’s softer and slower, more of a lazier river than a riptide.” Olivia gestures slowly with her hands. Watching Stiles as he nods along to her words. 

“To us, it’s not all about just what you feel, it’s about what you already know.” Olivia adds in after a minute and watches stiles take a breath in before he gives a firm nod. Like he's figured something out and he's not all that pleased about it.

“Do your friends know about this?” Whether Olivia means his magic or about his sexual orient, she leaves that up to him. 

“Lydia knows about the magic, she caught me messing around with lights. Uh, the other though. No, no one knows about that besides Cora.” Stiles last words are quiet and broken into spurts. 

“She’s the banshee, correct?” Olivia haggers a guess that Lydia could also sense Stiles magic within and that’s why she had easily caught him. Stiles nods his head and Olivia purses her lips. 

“It might be good for her to join in on our study sessions. She may very well aid in your progress.” Olivia leaves it at that and lets the spark collect himself. 

“I kind of always knew I was bi right? It was like a lightbulb went off freshman year high school. Scott was talking about the upperclassmen girls and all I could think about was Danny coming out as gay. I just thought like yeah okay I've always felt this way. Then Scott got bit sophomore year and the timing was just never right. I tried to tell my dad but he brushed it off and now I just feel like to much time has passed.” Stiles is staring down at his chipped nail polish, picking at a small chip still left on his pinky. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that Stiles. It’s your right to tell people when you are most comfortable. Don’t feel like just because you know means that they need to know as well. You’ll do it when you ready.” Olivia stands and drops her hand on his shoulder. 

His hand darts up and rests over hers. Her magic hums under her skin and rushes to the contact. She almost feels like her magic is being charged, feeling lighter and more powerful than she has in a long time. She has a hunch that Stiles might end up being a very powerful spark and that's both an exciting and very dangerous thought. Both for the boy and her pack. But she’ll deal with that when the time comes. 

“How does Thursday afternoons sound?” Olivia smiles at him and squeezes his shoulder. 

Stiles lets out a sigh and smiles up at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in pure happiness and her magic flutters between the spaces of her ribs at the sight of it. 

“Sounds good.” Stiles stands from the couch and leaves the library. 

_Special, indeed._ Olivia hums and follows him.

**Author's Note:**

> the rest of the chapters will basically just be how Stiles gets along with the rest of the Hale pack, a chapter per member.


End file.
